The Answering Machine
by Detective-Inspector-Me
Summary: Ever since she started dating Mike he's been crashing at her place more and more. Eventually they find themselves living together sharing a bed, a bathroom and an answering machine. The latter, is determine to end Abby's relationship with Mike. A series of one shots about Mike and Abby's relationship
1. Chapter 1

When I got home, Mike wasn't there yet. I wondered where he was but I didn't think much of it. I went to the kitchen and put on the kettle. Then, I tapped the button on the answering machine to hear the messages. One new message. 'Hi, it's Tom. I had a really great time last night Abby and I just wanted to let you know that I'm very excited about our new relationship. Thanks.' End of message. I let the kettle finish boiling and as it finished, something clicked. Oh my God, what if Mike had heard that message 'great time', 'relationship'… oh shit. I whipped out my phone and jabbed in his number. No answer. I called Joy, who picked up on the third ring.

'Hey Abby, what's up?' her voice sing-songed down the phone.

'Have you seen Mike?' I asked, panic edging into my voice.

'No why? Is something wrong?' I hung up without giving any explanation.

As I paced around the living room, the house phone rang, it showed Colin's number.

'Hey, Abby.' He said his voice soft and calm.

'Colin, what is it? You haven't seen Mike have you?' God, he was going to think I was insane.

'Yea I've seen him. He's lying on my couch.'

'I'll be there in 30 seconds.'

I dropped the phone and barrelled out the front door, crossed the courtyard and knocked on Colin's door. He answered quickly and ushered me into the kitchen.

'He's not in a great place right now.' Colin remarked, way to point out the obvious.

'I know, there's been a misunderstanding.' I stated blankly.

'He says you're cheating on him.' Oh God, it's true. He heard the message.

'I would never cheat on him.' I said, a hurt tone tinting my voice.

'OK, OK.' He put up his hands in mock surrender and led me to the living room.

There he was, laid out on the couch with his back to me. I thanked Colin and dropped my bag. I perched on the edge of the sofa and put my hand to Mike's shoulder. He quickly pulled it away from me and sat up on the couch. 'Go away.' He said, meeting my gaze and showing me the true depth of his hatred for me at this moment. 'No.' I responded bluntly trying very hard to show the hurt in my voice, he often missed any subtlety I attempted. 'You knew,' he began, shaking his head, 'I told you about why I was the way I was and I thought that meant you weren't going to add to it. I was wrong. You are as much, if not more, of a bitch than those other girls. I felt it bad for you, but I guess you and Tom were just meant-to-be.' His words dripped with hatred and I had to stop him, he couldn't possibly think I'd do that. Could he really believe I was that evil?

'I didn't cheat on you.' I stated, his eyes met mine again.

'I heard the voicemail. You can't pretend anymore.

'Tom,' he rolled his eyes, but I had to go on, 'Tom is our new weather man, I took him out to dinner last night to talk over his roll. It appears the jackass thought I was flirting. But I wasn't. I love you, not some overweight news guy. Baby, it's my job, I'm sorry.' I tried again to touch him, this time he let my hand linger on his shoulder for a moment until he looked up and smiled.

'A weather guy,' He shook his head, 'you told me about that dinner last week.' He laughed to himself. But not in a happy, relieved sense. I shuffled closer to him and pulled him forward into a hug. I played with the hair at the top of his neck and stroked his back with the other hand. He closed his arms around me and began to mutter 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.' I hushed him and we sat like that, on Colin's couch, for what seemed like a lifetime.


	2. Chapter 2

I unlocked the front door just after midnight. It had been a long, long day. All I wanted to do was curl up in bed beside Mike and fall into blissful sleep. The universe had other plans. When I entered the house and switched on the light, Mike was sitting on the couch staring off into the middle-distance. I jumped,

'you scared the life out of me!' I screamed as I shut the door.

'Right back at ya.' He muttered.

'What?' I asked, puzzled by his remark.

He leaned over and pressed the button on the answering machine. 'Hello, this is Doctor Purdy calling for Abby. I've gotten her test results in and would like to discuss them with her. If you'd give me a call back as soon as you get the chance. Thank you.'

Crap I thought. I really have to do something about that damn answering machine! Mike looked up, pain and worry painted in his eyes. He got off the couch and came over to me gripping my forearms tightly.

'Baby, if you're sick-' He choked on the word, 'talk to me.' He pulled me back towards the couch.

'Before we talk, I have to call him back. Once I have the results we'll talk.' I hit redial and the secretary picked up quickly.

'Hello, Dr Purdy's office, how may I help you?' the happy, teenage voice beamed.

'Hi, this is Abby Richter, I got a call from the doctor earlier today about some test results, could you put me through.'

'Of course,' the voice beamed, 'hold on one sec.' I waited until I heard Dr Purdy's familiar voice.

'Hello, Abby.'

'Hello Dr Purdy, I hear you have my results.'

'Yes I do, you were right. It's positive.'

'Oh. Thank you. I'll call you later to talk in more detail, but I have to run now.'

'Not a problem Abby, goodbye.'

I hung up the phone and turned back to Mike, he sat on the edge of the couch staring at me intensely.

'Well?' he asked, his throat scratchy.

'It was positive,' I responded.

'Look baby, whatever it is, we can do this.' He grabbed my hands in his and I felt the sweat on his palms, I had to tell him.

'Mike, I'm not sick.' His eyes measured my face for an answer, 'I'm pregnant.'

Slowly, his jaw dropped and his grip on my hands loosened. 'Your… your…' he mumbled. 'Yep,' I responded to his unasked question. A smile broke across his face and he pulled me into a hug.

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